“I would never allow a marriage betwixt you, as much for reasons politic as for reasons social. Do you comprehend me?” she said.
Liam chose his words carefully. “I never said I wished to marry the lady in question.”
“And you shall not—nor shall you use her as men are wont to do with unprotected women.” Elizabeth held his eye. “We protect her now. We demand that you ceaseyour pursuit of her.” Elizabeth paused, and her tone softened. “Perhaps in time I will find some gentleman for her to wed. ’Twill be no easy task in any case, but far harder if she is well used and carries your child.”
“So her pleawassuccessful.” He could not keep the anger from his tone.
Elizabeth’s regard was sharp. “I told you, I have not decided what to do with her. Her father was a traitor and a rascal, but I did love Joan FitzGerald dearly. ’Tis because of Joan that I am disposed somewhat favorably toward Katherine—thus I have decided to have Katherine attend me.”
Liam’s eyes widened but he managed to hold in a sigh of relief. “Katherine will not be unhappy. I think court life will suit her for a time.”
“I do agree.” Elizabeth handed him the sealed letter.
Liam did not break the seal. He regarded her, a question in his eyes, as finally they came to the business at hand.
“Another letter of marque.” She smiled. “You shall be most pleased, I am sure.”
“And upon whom does theSea Daggernow prey with the Crown’s approval?”
“You shall pursue any who dare to trade with, or support, in any way or manner, the rebels led by FitzMaurice.”
Liam said nothing. No hint of emotion crossed his face or showed in his cool gray eyes. No sign of agreement—or defiance.
“And you shall prey upon any who dare to support anyotherswho rebel against my authority in Ireland,” she said as firmly.
Liam nodded, slipping the letter of marque into a pocket in his cloak. Any others—such as Gerald FitzGerald. So the game has truly begun, he thought. He had made the opening move by abducting Katherine, then followed with a second play by taking her to her father. The queen’s counterpoint was far more precise—and far more challenging.
“Are you not pleased?” she asked, somewhat archly.
“I am very pleased,” he murmured. Indeed, despite thefact that the odds were against him, and that the stakes were so high, his blood raced with the eagerness and excitement displayed by highly bred horses held in check at the starting line before a championship race. He had decided his course. Not only must he have Katherine as his wife, her father must be restored to his title and lands. So recently, when he had been accused of conspiracy and treason, the charges had been false. Should such an accusation be leveled at him again, they would be valid. He must proceed with care—as all traitors must.
“Good,” Elizabeth said. She plucked his sleeve. “I am trying to think of a suitable manner in which to reward you for all that you have so far done in my behalf,” she said softly, gazing into his eyes. “I depend upon you, Liam. You are my very own golden pirate.”
“I shall be grateful, Bess, for any small reward, or even none.”
“Every man wants some reward. Do not be afraid to come forth with a petition, Liam. I will entertain it gladly.”
Liam bowed his head. When the time came, he would most definitely remind Elizabeth of this moment. “Thank you, Bess.”
“You are welcome.” Elizabeth smiled. “You have permission to leave, Liam.”
He turned to go.
She grabbed his hand. “I look forward to when next we meet,” she said suddenly.
He only hesitated a heartbeat. He squeezed her hand and bent and brushed his mouth to her cheek. “And I.” A moment later he was gone.
Elizabeth stared after him, the royal facade gone. In her eyes were a young girl’s wistful dreams.
“The queen has chosen me to be your servant,” the girl said. She was small and slight and very fair and quite pretty. Her name was Helen.
Katherine was still reeling with shock. The queen had informed her earlier that she was not just to remain at court, but to be one of her privy ladies. Katherine wasmore than thrilled. She had not even thought to ask for such an honor—and an honor it was. She had not thought such an honor could be bestowed upon her, an Irish traitor’s daughter. Only yesterday she had been at a loss, with nowhere to go, with no future. Now she had a place to stay, a purpose in staying. It was not marriage, but it was second best, and if the truth be known, Katherine would not mind being one of the queen’s ladies for a good while. How fascinating life at court would be!
“Helen,” Katherine said, facing the petite girl, “perhaps you can start your service to me by having a bath brought up, as I have not had a chance to bathe in days. And I have no clean clothes. Could you find me something to wear while my own things are laundered and dried?” She began to worry about her nonexistent wardrobe. Privy ladies were fabulously dressed. She had naught but a single, torn gown.
“I think so,” Helen said, smiling.
“Good.” Katherine stiffened as Helen turned to go. Liam O’Neill stood watching them in the open doorway of her small room.
